


Beasts Within

by viiperfang



Series: Adventures of the Freak Fam [6]
Category: Freak Fam - Fandom
Genre: (theyre already dead tho so does it count?), Angst, Animal Violence, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Minor Character Death, Multi, Self-Worth problems, Some of the fakes make an appearance, Temporary Death, Violence, but i dont really want this in their tags, people talk about their feelings!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 18:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viiperfang/pseuds/viiperfang
Summary: Following Geoff's suggestion, Disaster goes to check out a warehouse the man has an eye on, Shirk coming along for protection and manpower. But when an unexpected turn of events happens, its a race against time.





	Beasts Within

**Author's Note:**

> _ w o o p s_

Something is wrong. Disaster has  _ never _ seen Shirk this on edge. He keeps looking arojnd, body taught and poised to fight at any second, fist clenched so tightly around his gun that it's shaking. He's standing in front of her as if he's expecting a gunshot or explosion to go off any second. It's setting  _ her _ on edge. He's wearing his damned mask, to Disaster's chagrin, so she has no idea what he's thinking. 

They were scouting out a new warehouse for the Fakes, at Geoff's personal request.  _ "Some fuckers own a warehouse down at the docks, but there's very few of them and they don't actually use it. Mind securing it for us, sweetie? Take Shirk with you, better safe than sorry. _ " 'Very few members' was right. They came across one guard when they first got here, but Shirk had easily dealt with them. 

Something is  _ wrong.  _ Disaster almost wants to call Geoff and ask for backup, and her hands reaching for her phone before Shirk shoves her against the wall with… a…  _ growl? _ His gun is pointed down the corridor, but Disaster can't see what he's aiming at past his body which is shielding her own. A chilling noise—what sounds like a crack baby between laughter and metal against metal—echoes towards them and sends the hairs on her arms and neck to stand on end. "What the f-" she starts to whisper but Shirk's gloved hand claps over her mouth with a rushed  _ Shh _ !

"Back up slowly," he tells her ever so quietly. If her focus hadn't been on him she would've missed it. "Towards the doorway, 10 feet behind you. Get in and lock the door." She nods, and he unclasps her mouth, pushing her backwards with his hand while his attention is still on whatever's at the end of the hall. Her movement must set the thing off because suddenly there's an explosion of movement and Shirk's shoving her towards the door with a loud curse. He fires at the thing—she catches a glimpse, it's like a rotting corpse of a dog with glowing eyes and  _ horns _ —which gallops at him, his bullets sinking uselessly into its flesh. "Go!"

"What is that?!" She shrieks, barely ducking under the creature as it leaps over her head. Shirk's chasing after it, firing shot after shot until his gun clicks. It's locked eyes with her, before she's shoved once again and jolts back into movement. "Shirk!"

"Just get into the room!" He roars, throwing the empty gun at the beast's head to draw its attention. "Hey, you ugly fucker, you're target it me, you slobbering husk!" The creature snarls and runs at him, and he pushes off to the side, rolling out of the way. Disaster is plastered to the wall in fear, and Shirk throws his mask off before looking over his shoulder. His face is a frenzy, but it drops in horror that Disaster is  _ still out here _ . "Disaster! FUCKING GO!"

She fumbles a nod before sprinting the last couple of feet to the room before scrambling in and poking her head out. Shirk checking back on her causes his attention to lapse and the creature slams him to the floor, claws tearing at his stomach as he screams out a string of expletives. "Shirk!" She screams, and he looks at her, eyes wild. 

"SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR!"

"But what about–"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND _ DO AS I SAY! _ " His voice is ragged, tearing from his throat painfully. " **LOCK THE DOOR!** "

" _ Shit _ ," she whispers, and does as he says finally. She's thrown into darkness, the noises from outside the room quieting to a muffled mess. Disaster clasps her hands together and  _ prays _ . 

Shirk is relieved once the door locks, and he turns back to the once-dog in front of him. It's larger than it once was, skull easily a foot across. Rotting flesh melts from its body like hot fat with every movement, causing him to curl his lip in disgust. "You're a real nasty mug, aren't you?" He kicks the beast off of him, which lets out a yelp as it slams into the wall. 

The man flips back to his feet into a crouch, one arm curled around his stomach and the other freeing the knife from around his belt. "Goddamn it, you got a good hit on me," he hisses, eyeing the blood staining his front and pooling on the ground. The Zombie-Dog gets back to its feet and it snarling at him. Shirk lets his teeth sharpen, eyes shifting in color and pupils narrowing into slits as he growls back.

The Zombie moves first, bolting up and snapping at him, only for it's boney jaws to clamp around nothing as he springs into the air and lands a kick to the top of it's head. It howls and bucks, throwing him off, before its teeth sink into his leg, and, with a shake of its head, it sends him careening into the wall. It's on top of him, claws retracing their previous path and tearing apart his stomach as if the kevlar vest was nothing but air. It's jaws clamp around his chest and he screams, just able to take his knife and stab upwards through the bottom of its head. The blade sinks through flesh and bone, fueled by inhuman strength, and pierces the beast's brain. The dog-like creature's jaw tightens further before it drops like a stone, dark red, dead blood pouring from its jaws as it slumps over, dead. 

Shirk collapses as well, cursing in his mind, struggling to breath as blood soaks the concrete ground in a spreading puddle.  _ Fucker got me good, _ he wheezes, before his eyes snap open as he remembers his companion.  _ Shit, Disaster–! _

-

The noise stops with a screech before falling into eerie silence, and Disaster braves unlocking the door and peering out into the hall. The creature's dead body blocks most of her view, and for a worrying moment Disaster thinks Shirk left her. His mask is still against the wall where he threw it, though, so she knows he hadn't gone far. She creeps from the room and takes the mask into her hands before turning to examine the animal, only for her heart to drop through the floor. 

Shirk's beneath the beast, blood spreading below him to mingle with the beast's. "Shitshitshit–" she hisses, rushing over and dropping to his side, heedless of the blood that soaks her legs. "Shirk, hey, hey, look at me." To her relief, he's breathing—barely—and his eyes slide over to meet hers. Were… were his eyes  _ pink _ ? She blinks and finds his green eyes staring up at her, so Disaster chalks it up to a trick of the light or panic or something and turns her attention at the wounds covering Shirk's torso.

"Fucking hell," Shirk gurgles, eyes narrowing into a squint. He goes to sit up only for Disaster to yell something she doesn't quite think about. "Fuck,  _ fuck _ ," he groans as she shrugs out of her jacket and presses it against his stomach. 

"Shut up, shut up, don't–please don't–save your strength," she tells him desperately, tears dripping down her face. Shirk stops talking, which is  _ worse _ because she doesn't know if he's  _ alive _ now and–

She remembers she has an earpiece, from Gavin. For emergencies only, well this is a  _ huge _ fucking emergency, and she fishes it from her pocket and shoves it in her ear before babbling, "h-hello? Gav? Anyone?"

" _ Disaster! _ " Gavin's voice calls back, startled. " _ Scared the shit out of me. This channel's for emergencies only- _ "

"I need backup, and a med-evac,  _ asap _ !" She tells him, and Disaster can hear Gavin's fingers flying over his keyboard momentarily before his chair falls backwards and she hears footsteps. 

" _ We're on our way! Are you okay? _ "

"Just hurry," she tells her uncle before pulling the earpiece from her ear and placing it back in her pocket. 

Disaster takes a breath, only for Shirk's eyes to slide shut. "N–No! No, please, no. Don't fall asleep. No, open your eyes, come on, look at me–" She slaps his cheek and tries to rouse him or at least get him to groan or something, but he doesn't let out even a slight noise. She feels hysteria bubble up into her chest, and Disaster lets out a sob, burying her face into his chest before telling him, "I-I don't know if there are more, and I don't have a weapon. If you die,  _ I _ die." 

"Fffffucking  _ hell _ ," he spits, blood pouring from his mouth as his eyes snap open. "Fffine, I'm getting up." He kicks the corpse off his body and staggers to his feet, arms curled around himself as blood drips to the floor. "Can't even grieve over me, gotta fuckin' guilt trip me, huh?"

"W–I– _ what? _ " Disaster stammers, eyes widening and heart stuttering. "I… you…  _ how _ ?"

"Don't ask, you don't want to know," he simply says before turning down the hall. "We better get outta here before I really  _ do _ bleed out." Blood's still pouring from his wounds and dripping down his chin, and Disaster is absolutely  _ terrified _ . But he's  _ alive _ —she thinks at least—and that's what matters. She's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She scrambles to her feet only to be pressed to Shirk's back. "There are more, I can smell the damned things."

He wrenches the knife from the creature's skull and presses the handle into her hands wordlessly before leading her down the hallway, back the way they came. Shirk's acting like he's not bleeding buckets everywhere, and Disaster is still a little wary of whatever's going on, but it seems like a conversation for a later date. They enter an empty room, one they had already checked out, only for Shirk to stop. She follows his lead and holds the knife in front of her, only for six bodies to slink from the shadows, all animals of some sort. They fan out in front of them, growling. Shirk looks at her, barely a glance, before he whispers, "sorry."

"What?" She asks, only to be cut off as Shirk steps forward and to the side—giving her a view of his face. He lets his arms drop to his sides, fingers curled in towards his palms. Before her eyes, his nails lengthen into claws, a tail grows from his back, and horns sprout from his head, thick and reaching back in a gentle curve. He broadens his stance and  _ roars _ at the beasts, mouth splitting wide open and displaying a mouthful of sharp teeth. His eyes shift from green to pink, glowing slightly in the darkness and his ears grow and morph into long, pointed elf-like ears. 

Disaster stumbles back and presses against the wall, hands shaking horribly.  _ What? WHAT? _

Then he charges. 

Moving almost faster than her eyes can track, he dashes forward in inhuman movements—close to the floor, almost on all fours—before he leaps at the first creature with a snarl. The rest of them spring into action and leap on top of him, piling up in a writhing mass of teeth and claws. One goes flying into the air and slams into the far wall, another one's head is crushed beneath a clawed hand, skull buckling like cardboard and causing blood and brain matter to splatter across the floor in a wet crunch. 

Disaster screams as the one that got thrown turns towards her and snarls, charging at her. She scrambles away, changing her grip on the knife, only for another two to peel away from the scuffle in the center of the room and flank her. Faster than she can blink, Shirk's head snaps up at her cry and he shoves the beasts from off of him before he sprints in front of her and throws his arms out protectively. "Fuck  _ off _ ," he snarls at them, tail lashing back and forth. "If you touch her I'll make sure your deaths are slow and  _ painful _ . You okay, Disaster?" He glances at her, his features softening, and Disaster finds she can't be scared of him. Not when he's protecting her and still so  _ him _ . She nods wordlessly, and he gives her a small smile before turning back to the beasts as one leaps. He easily batters it away, and it hits the wall so hard the concrete cracks before it slides to the floor, dazed. "It won't die unless you get its brain," he offers as he leads the pack away. 

Disaster looks at the knife in her hand to the creature lurching to its feet on the ground, and she moves forward and sinks the blade into its skull before it can get back up. It drops to the ground with a thud, and she frowns at it, only to be drawn back into the fighting as claws scrape the ground behind her. She whirls around only to see one of them leaping at her. 

"Get down!" Shirk yells, and she ducks, only for immense heat to sail over her head. Black fire strikes the creature in the chest and consumes it entirely. It lets out a horrifying screech as it hits the ground and lashes against the flames that bite at its flesh, only to fall still as its overcome by its wounds. 

"T-Thanks!" She shouts gratefully, and Shirk had the good humor to shoot her a thumbs up even as his other fist punches through the skull of another beast. Knowing how to deal with them, Disaster steps forward to help, only to be snagged by her hair and yanked backwards. "Hey!" She shouts indignantly, only for an arm to curl around her throat, cutting off her airway and any words along with it. She scratches at the arm, dropping the knife to try and get away. 

Her shout makes Shirk look over, only for him to peel back his lips in a snarl as he sees her predicament. "Unhand her," he snarls, surrounded by dead bodies, one writhing underneath his foot as it bleeds out and the last one hanging by its jaws from his hand. 

"Ah, damn, she was fuckin' right," a distinctly southern-accented voice says in awe from somewhere to Disaster's right. She assumes he's the one holding her hostage. "Yer a real fuckin' demon, huh? Ye name ain't just for show. Boss'll be real proud-a me for  _ this _ ." Disaster kicks at the air, struggling to breath until the grip around her neck loosens as Shirk takes a menacing step forward, a steady growl rumbling from his chest. 

The creature in his hand catches fire and he drops it carelessly to the ground, eyes never leaving the man behind her. "Let her go or I'll tear you limb from limb–"

"Ah, ye aren't in the position to be makin' threats, pal," the man chides, and Disaster's heart skips a beat as she hears the click of a gun cocking before cold metal is pressed to her temple. Shirk completely stills, eyes widening. "Lest ye want her brains bein' blown out. Though," the man gestures to Shirk with the gun, Disaster following the gesture out of the corner of her eye, "I dunno how much longer ya will be able to stand. You're bleedin' awfully much there, buddy. Don't think you could take me on even if you  _ did _ get to her before I shoot."

Disaster hates to admit it, but the man's right. Shirk's swaying where he stands, chest heaving and skin pale. Whatever supernatural abilities that have kept him from dying seem to be running out, or hitting a wall. He growls anyway, tail twitching weakly behind him. "I still have enough strength to gut you," he seethes, but Disaster can hear the exhausted edge creeping into his voice.

The man must hear it too because he laughs. "Here's what we're gonna do, buckaroo. You're gonna follow me 'n the girl, nice and slow, to the lab. If ye try anything? Kaboom." He presses the gun further into her temple, before taking a step back. "Right?"

Disaster doesn't move with him and scoffs. "Isn't there someone you forgot to ask?"

"Excuse me? Who else is here, girlie?"

"Me." She drops, twisting as she does so and kicks out, knocking his legs out from under him. He hits the ground with a thud on his back, gun skittering across the floor. She races for it only for him to grab her ankle and yank her down as well. She goes to get up, but he gets a good kick across her face and she yells, "Fuck!" before falling onto her ass. She's grabbed by a pair of hands which lower her gently before turning her face towards Shirks. 

"You okay?" he asks, wiping away a drop of blood that escapes the corner of her mouth. 

"Just bit my tongue. You holding up?"

"Mmm, barely. I can go long enough to get out of here, though. First…" His head snaps to the man who's picking up the gun and standing, and Disaster pats his arm. 

"Kill him," she agrees, and Shirk smiles viciously. 

He stands and stalks over, crouched low to the ground and claws at the ready. The man whips around and fires, and Disaster flinches as the bullet pierces Shirk's stomach, but he doesn't falter as he swipes upwards, claws inches from the man's nose as he stumbles backwards with a shout. Shirk swipes again, claws slicing through the gun like paper with an ugly screech, and it falls to the floor in seperate pieces. The man drops the rest of the gun and desperately backs up as he rifles through his pockets, pulling something out right as his back hits the wall. 

It's a vial. Disaster shouts, "Look out!" as the man uncorks it, and Shirk backpedals. The man throws whatever's in the vial onto Shirk who barely gets his arms up to cover his face before he takes off. Shirk slips in some ichor from a beast as he backs up, and crashes to the ground in a heap. Disaster rushes forward, sliding to a stop and crouching before him, hands hovering over him. "Fucking  _ shit _ ," he spits, shaking the water off his arms. "That shit  _ stings _ . Lucky it was weak-ass holy water otherwise it'd burn like a bitch in heat." 

Disaster's about to chuckle before Shirk groans and falls backwards, eyes screwed shut. "Shirk!"

"Fuck." He coughs, turning his head to the side as blood dribbles from his mouth.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Help should be here soon–"

"My injuries are catchin' up on me," he wheezes, laughing slightly. 

"You were just fi–well, not  _ fine _ , but not  _ dead _ ?"

"I… how do I put this? I focused most of my power on not bleeding out, but I overdrew from my reserves or somethin', and it's been a while since I used them so extensively so they just gave out. And, y'know." He waves his hand in a vague gesture. "Bleedin' out again or whatever."

"It's not  _ whatever _ ," Disaster screeches. "Gav and Dad should be outside by now, we should…" She trails off as she focuses on Shirk shifting back. His horns and tail are receding, claws and teeth growing blunter and shorter. His face is twisted in concentration. "Shirk?"

"I can pro'lly hol' out to get out," he mumbles. "Gonna use the last of my strength to… yeah tha' should work…" He's mostly speaking to himself as he mutters a few more incomprehensible things before his eyes open and he sits up. Disaster nods and stands, helping him to his feet. He stumbles as he tries to get his footing underneath of him, but nearly falls onto his face so Disaster slots herself underneath his arm and takes most of his weight onto her shoulders. "Sorry, I can't really–It's all–Room's spinnin'." His words are clipped, sentences half-thought out and not being finished. 

"Don't worry," she chirps, false happiness forced into her voice. "Just save your thoughts and strength for when we get out of here, okay? Lean on me, that's it." She talks to him as they make their way towards the front of the building, even as she can feel blood soaking her side, foot slipping in it occasionally. Shirk's head droops further and his breath grows more ragged as they walk, eyes unfocused and staring at the floor. They're nearing the exit, where she can just make out the whirr of chopper blades through the walls, when he staggers and his arm slips from around her shoulder. "Fuck, Shirk!"

Disaster barely catches him before he hits the ground and hoists him into her arms, bridal-style. His head rolls back, eyes shut and arms hanging limply at his sides. He's bleeding more that a human should be able to and survive, but she hopes its one of his demon quirks or whatever because he'd already be dead with the amount of blood he's lost—no. She can't think of that. She shakes her head to rid herself of the thought and staggers out the door, tears brimming in her eyes. 

"Disaster!" Ryan shouts, running over flanked by Jeremy and Geoff while Jack and Gavin stop their conversation. "You oka–what the fuck happened?!" He slides to a stop, eyes widening and face dropping as he catches sight of Shirk, before Geoff's barking out orders.

"Rye, take him to the chopper, Lil' J, assist him, and tell Gavin to get in contact with Vinny. Disaster, what the  _ fuck _ happened?"

Ryan gently and carefully takes Shirk from her grip before he and Jeremy make their way quickly to the helicopter. Jeremy says something to Gavin who pales but nods, while Jack books it to the chopper and opens the door for Ryan. The two obscure Shirk from Disaster's view before she finally turns to Geoff. She wraps her arms around him and hiccups, and he pets her hair, telling her, "It'll be alright."

She gets herself together and pulls away, scrubbing her eyes before clearing her throat. "We got jumped by… I don't know, zombie animals is the best way to describe them. Shirm got hurt protecting me. I don't want anyone going in, in case there are more. Torch the place."

Geoff nods, but sighs. "I have to send some people in to check it out, but I'll make sure they're on their guard, okay? We'll burn it later."

"Geoff no-"

" _ Geoff _ ! He's losing a lot of blood, it's not looking good," Jack calls as she jogs up. "We need to get him out of here,  _ now _ . I don't know what the fuck happened, but he was shot on top of being torn to shreds."

"Disaster, go with them, we can talk later. Jeremy, Gav, Michael, over here please!" He presses a kiss kiss on Jack's lips, then another one 'for Ryan' before kissing Disaster's forehead and passing her to Jack. The lads all come rushing over, talking over each other asking  _ what the fuck is going on _ . Disaster hears Geoff kind of explain the plan as Jack leads her away, towards the chopper. 

Shirk's laying on the floor, looking every sense of the word  _ dead _ . But his chest rises and falls in stuttering movements, betraying that he's still alive. His chest is bandaged tightly, the white fabric already being stained red, while Ryan presses a wad of fabric into Shirk's stomach. "He should be dead Jack," Disaster hears him say as Jack settles next to him. "There's no way he should be alive. Now or ever. He has more scars than  _ I _ do and he's half my age."

"I know, but if we don't move quickly, whatever miracle he's been living in will run out. Where's the closest hospital?" Jack asks out loud as she stands, heading to the front. 

"Not a hospital," Disaster cautions. "He… doesn't do well in them."

"Honey," Ryan soothes. "I think he'd rather a hospital than  _ dying _ , though I know how he feels."

Disaster shakes her head. "No, not a hospital. Last time he was there…" she trails off, thinking back momentarily to the panic of the  _ last _ time he woke there, nearly killing himself a second time as he freaked out. "No." Her voice is full of finality, and Ryan drops it. 

"Where should we go to," Jack's voice shouts over the chopper starting up. "We have a couple of doctors who might be home–"

"Moe."

"Who? That's not one of ours?"

"He's a friend of Shirk's. And a veterinarian. But he is an underground doctor, and one of the Fam's best. He should be home, and he'll help." She doesn't mention that he  _ probably _ knows the truth about Shirk, as he's a fucking werewolf of something for fuck's sake.

"Just tell me what way to go, sweetie, and we'll get there. Going up."

The helicopter lifts off the ground, and Disaster shuts the side door before kneeling by Shirk's head. She sits in silence for a couple of moments before Ryan's voice startles her. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No."

"You sure? You're covered in a lot of blood."

Disaster's suddenly aware of the sheer amount of blood coating her side. Her hair is plastered to her face and neck, which both itch as the blood dries and flakes off when she moves. Her lip quivers as she answers. "None of it's mine."

" _ Fuck _ , sorry baby," Ryan apologizes. "He'll get through this, he's a tough fucker. I need to thank him for keeping you safe."

She gives her father a watery smile before she moves forward and kisses the corner of Shirk's mouth. "I love you so much," she whispers before standing and heading to the front to navigate for her aunt-slash-mother-figure.

\--

The chopper touches down in the backyard of the ranch-house, nothing but farmland and forest for miles and miles. Moe is already at the door, geared up and waiting as soon as he got the call that they were coming in. Disaster's the first out of the vehicle and she makes her way over to him, arm outstretched for a handshake. He takes it only to pull her into a quick hug. "He'll be alright, he's tougher than you'd know."

Ryan and Jack carefully bring Shirk up, who's skin is nearly the color of paper. "Bring him inside, this way," he tells them, leading them inside and through the kitchen to a side room. An operating table sits in the center, dozens of machines surrounding it. "On there. Either of you have medical experience?" Jack steps forward and he nods once, "You'll help me. The rest of you: out. Feel free to raid my kitchen or guest closet, shower, and play with the dogs, in any order." With that the door closes and it's a waiting game. 

Ryan suggests she gets a shower, and Disaster finds a t-shirt and a pair of sweats that'll fit her before she does so. She admits she feels better, though a sick sort of panic is rising in her chest as she makes her way to the kitchen, where Ryan's at the table with two steaming mugs sitting across from each other. She takes a seat and takes a sip, raising an eyebrow at the taste of alcohol that assaults her taste buds. "I know you don't drink, neither do I, but this'll take the edge off. Trust me."

She did trust him, but she loudly announces that the booze is disgusting and ruining the coffee that she already doesn't like to drink anyway. Her and her father sit at the table for what feels like forever before she can't take it anymore and she drops her head into her hands. "What if he dies?" She cries, only to jump as a nose nudges her arm. Disaster looks up and under the table to come face to face with a large Pit Bull, who puts her head in Disaster's lap with a whine. The dog nudges her arm again, and Disaster begins to rub at her head. 

She soon finds herself on the floor, the Pittie—whose name is fittingly Daisy—leaning against her like a pillar while a black and brown dog named Bella is in her lap, nudging her hand every time she stopped petting her. Ryan had three other dogs piled on top of him, and even more entered and left the room occasionally. Daisy's comforting presence at her side and Bella's dumb baby face makes her feel calmer and less on the edge of the world ending, to her surprise. 

The front door opens, and Bella scrambles out of her lap to bark violently, only for Vinny to tell her, "Shut up Bella, you know me!" Her barking became loud, screeching whining. Disaster laughs as Bella charges into the room and back into her lap, whole body wiggling with the force of her tail wagging. Vinny enters and is instantly at Disaster's side. "I came as soon as I could, which is hard when I don't drive and the cabs aren't running. Ace is at the warehouse. Are you okay?"

"I'm… doing better."

"How is he?"

She shakes her head. "Haven't heard. Jack and Moe are still working on him–Bella, stop it!" She shoves the dog away from her face as she's showered with doggie kisses, and Ryan calls Bella over and leads her into the other room. 

" _ What _ the hell happened? Ace sent me a blurry image of something that looks like a rotting corpse of a dog."

She shakes her head again. "I don't really know. We got attacked by those things, and some fucking creep, and Shirk protected me. I… there's more but I think we need either him or Moe to explain, because I don't quite understand it myself."

Vinny pulls her into a hug, and she lets herself crumble for a moment before pulling away and kissing them. "He'll be okay."

"Yeah. He will. You're right."

It's that moment that Jack enters the kitchen, wiping blood of her hands and Disaster springs to her feet and rushes over. "How is he?"

"We stopped the bleeding, and he's stable, but he's not out of the woods yet. Moe's setting him up in the guest room now, if you want to go see him." She gestures behind her before heading to the other room. "Ryan, can I talk to you for a second?"

She doesn't wait before Disaster is making her way down the hall, Vinny following close behind. They enter the bedroom and see Shirk laying in the bed, motionless as Moe checks his vitals and makes sure he's okay for the moment. "Oh, Shirk," Disaster whispers as she stumbles over to the bed and takes his hand in hers. "Look at you." She sniffs, before squaring her shoulders. "You have explaining to do, asshole, so you better wake up soon." With that she turns on Moe who's leaving the room. "You know."

"Know what?" He asks, tilting his head and giving her an innocent look. Vinny squints in confusion at the both of them, only to balk at Disaster's next words. 

"That he's a demon."

Moe lets out a weary sigh, rubbing his face. "I don't know if this is my conversation to have–"

" _ What? _ " Ryan's voice carries down the hall as he shouts, only for Jack to bark something at him. 

"...I can explain some of it to you four, I guess he mutters before gesturing for them to follow as he leaves the room. They all end up gathered at the kitchen table, with Disaster, Vinny, and Moe sitting while Jack and Ryan stand. 

"So," he begins, unsure of how to start. "I assume you saw him transform, Disaster?"

"Yeah, he grew horns and a tail," she explained, and Moe nodded. 

"Yeah. I'm not going to get into the details because that's his business, but yes. He's a demon. But," he cuts Ryan off who opens his mouth to say something. "Contrary to popular belief, demons aren't 'vessels of Satan' or 'knights of Hell' or anything like that. They're just… well they're basically human except they have powers and horns and shit. Yes, once upon a time, the first demons originated from hell, but most of the demons alive now have never seen or been to hell. They're generations removed from their ancestors. They have human lifespans basically, living around ninety-or-so years but it takes more to kill a demon than a human as their rate of healing and powers make them efficiently adept at surviving the unsurvivable. Enough damage will kill a demon though. 

Blessed weapons and Holy Water can render their healing and powers useless as it attacks them at their source. On the other hand, they are more resistant to fire, though enough exposure is still bad for them."

"Wait, Shirk's a real, fucking  _ living demon? _ " Vinny asks, blinking owlishly at Moe. 

"That seems to be the case," Ryan agrees. 

"You all seem… rather unperturbed by this," Moe muses. 

Jack shrugs. "Well, we know and have come to trust him. He's proven he's on our side and will protect his own. Who cares what species he is."

"Plus, he's dating my daughter, and hasn't hurt her so I have no reason to do anything."

" _ Dad _ ," Disaster hisses, smacking Ryan's arm. The man chuckles and ruffles her hair, only for her to stick her tongue out at him. 

"Will… do you think he'll bring it up? Will it change anything?" Vinny's worrying their lip, hands clasped together and in their lap. Disaster puts a hand over theirs and rubs her thumb across their knuckles. 

"I doubt anything will change between you four, except he'll be more willing to put himself on the line." Moe waves a hand. "I've known the man since he first came to Los Santos, and let me tell you: he's completely and utterly in love with you three. He may not admit it but I know." He taps his nose twice before hesitating. "I… don't know if he'll bring it up, but your best bet is to wait a while to see  _ if _ he does."

"Makes sense," Disaster declares, already preparing the list of questions she's going to ask him when he wakes up. She stands up and announces she's going to sit with Shirk before she leaves the kitchen and heads back to the guest room. 

Daisy has taken up guard at the foot of the bed, laying across his legs, and the dog raises her head as Disaster enters before she huffs and puts it back down. Disaster pats her on the head and the dog's tail wags lazily before she pulls up a chair and sits beside Shirk. She runs a hand down his face, before lacing her fingers with his. She watches the rise and fall of his chest for what feels like forever before she slumps over and falls asleep with her head on his arm. 

She wakes up to the bed shifting and Disaster sits upright only to realize it was Daisy climbing back up. Disaster feels a blanket fall from around her shoulders, and rubs a crick out of her neck. "He wake up yet?" Disaster swears Daisy shakes her head  _ no _ , and she frowns, kissing Shirk before wandering from the room. 

She ends up in the kitchen, looking a little lost as she doesn't see anyone else. "Your group went home, they decided to let you stay while they finished things up. Hope that's okay." Moe enters behind her, tossing some papers onto the table and shuffling towards the fridge. "Eggs?"

"No, yeah, that's fine. I understand," she says, a tad awkwardly. "And yes, thank you." She sits at the table, glancing over the papers and seeing a lot of numbers. "Do you need to head to work?"

"Nah, I'm actually on vacation, though if there's an emergency at the clinic I may head in. You picked a good week to get into trouble, hmm?" He slides a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her and asks, "Would you like some coffee or juice?"

"Oh, uh, juice please. You don't have to do this, you know."

"Bah, he's a friend, you're a friend. It's the least I can do to be hospitable to a guest. He's holding stable, which is good." Moe hands her a glass of orange juice before sitting next to her and sipping from a mug before eating a mouthful of egg. He scans over the papers momentarily before he seems to remember something. 

"Oh, you're free to stay as long as you like. Please, take the couch—it's very comfortable—or something, you'll ruin your neck sleeping in a chair like that." He then mutters something and peers down at the papers, jabbing another mouthful of food into his mouth as he scours over the papers. 

Disaster taps the table, her negotiator instincts kicking in. "I really appreciate you saving Shirk and letting me stay. I don't know how I can repay you."

Moe laughs, joking, "I'll be sending the big lug a damn bill in the mail once he's better." Then, because his thoughts jump around quicker than Disaster can keep up, "You left your phone in the bathroom last night. You're lucky I have an Iphone, because I plugged it in to charge. It should be on the coffee table."

Disaster thanks him again and stands up, placing her empty plate and glass in the sink—"Just leave it there, I'll wash it later."—and stopping in the living room long enough to grab her phone before heading outside. She had some calls to make. 

The first number she dials is Geoff, who picks up after the first ring. "Hey Uncle Geoff," she sighs, leaning against the side of the house. "How's the cleanup going?" 

" _ Well enough. You're right, those dog things are fucking scary as dicks. There weren't any more other than the ones you two killed, but… _ "

"But?"

" _ Well, Gavin almost lost his fucking hand because one of them wasn't quite dead and had enough life or whatever to try and bite him. It was kind of funny, actually, never heard him scream like that before. _ " Geoff snickers and Disaster rolls her eyes. Of course Gavin manages to get himself in danger when there  _ really _ isn't any. " _ We didn't find any signs of human activity though. Whoever had showed up just went  _ ** _poof_ ** _ and disappeared. And his description that you gave Ryan isn't ringing any bells. _ "

"Did Dad tell you–"

" _ That your boyfriend is some kind of devilman? Of course he did. I mean,  _ I _ had my suspicions…" _

"Of course you did, Geoff," she huffs with a smile. She can hear Geoff's own through the phone.

" _ But, as I told him, no one will mess with you or us once they find out we have a literal  _ Demon _ on our side. How ironic is it that his nickname was the  _ Demon of Los Santos _ ? _ " Geoff chuckles.

"You can't tell anyone.  _ Hell _ , I shouldn't have even told Dad or Aunt Jackie… I shouldn't know."

" _ What's done is done, sweetie. You can't change the past, you can either run from it, or lea– _ "

"Do  _ not _ quote Lion King at me."

Geoff cackles, and Disaster finds herself joining in. His laugh is always contagious. " _ Sorry, _

_ sorry. Oh, hey! Someone wants to talk to you. _ "

"Oh? Who?"

" _ A certain blue-haired bastard, who's currently climbing my back like a monkey to grab the pho–Hey! Ace, get the fuck off! I'm gonna fall–" _

There's a sound of a scuffle, before Ace's voice replaces Disaster. " _ Yo, D! This place is nasty cool! Those dog things are awesome, and I kiiiinda want one _ ."

"We are not getting a zombie dog, Ace. You couldn't even take care of a  _ fish _ ! Poor Shirk had to confiscate Phish Styx from you so he wouldn't die."

" _ But, like, it's  _ already _ dead and stuff, so it  _ can't _ die! _ " Ace's whining didn't quite drown out Geoff bitching in the background, grumbling about his phone or whatnot. 

"We are  _ not _ getting a dog, zombie or otherwise. Remember the penguin?"

" _ Oh! Perry Penguini! I miss him. _ "

"Ace, I love you, but please put Geoff back on the phone," Disaster snorts, shaking her head despite them not being able to see it. Her datemate was something, that was sure.

" _ Wait! I wanted to ask something… Oh! How's Shirk? _ "

"Sleeping right now. I'll let you or Vinny know as soon as he wakes up, okay?"

" _ That sounds fair. I love you too! Give him a big smooch from me–Hey! I'm not done!" _

" _ Give me my phone back, Ace!" _ There's another short shuffle where in both Geoff and Ace yell at each other before Geoff's voice becomes clearer. " _ God, your SO is such a brat. Go make yourself useful, I'm not paying you to stand around and flip me off!" _

" _ You're not paying me at all!" _ Ace's voice calls, fading as they scurry off to bother someone else. 

"You gotta love them. Sounds like you're busy. Better go, hm?"

"Probably. Disaster?"

"Hm?"

"We all love you. You're so strong, don't forget it."

She smiles sadly, sighing, "Thank you. Love you too," before hanging up. She slides to the ground, back still pressed against the wall and lets her head fall to her hands. Her smile drops as she struggles not to completely break. 

"Fuck! Why is it always him?" She screams, kicking at the air, only to be startled as the door swings open and half a dozen dogs burst outside in a flurry. "Shit! Christ!"

Moe laughs sheepishly from the doorway. "Sorry, didn't know you were out here." He steps out from the house and stands beside her. His curly hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and he's changed out of his pyjamas. "Would've warned you the horde was coming if I had."

"It's fine, just startled me, that's all." Bella worms her way into Disaster's arms and whines until she begins to pet her. Above her, Moe fishes something out from his pocket before lighting it. "I didn't know you smoked."

"Nasty habit. Don't start."

"I always nag Shirk about it. Aren't you a doctor? Those are horrible for you."

"A vet," he corrects, before agreeing. "But yeah, awful things. Getting like, thirty different types of cancer as we speak." He's careful to stand downwind of her so the smoke and ash are blown away from her, which Disaster is grateful for. "He should wake up within a couple of days. Daisy's taken up residence on his bed."

"I noticed. Is she always like that with your patients?"

Moe shakes his head, "Nah. She's a certified service dog, y'know? But no one wants a Pit Bull around these parts who isn't interested in dog fighting or something unsavory. So I rescued her off the death-list. She's normally very aloof with strangers, though she knows when someone needs her. Never had her stuck to someone's side like this though."

Disaster hums, stroking Bella's head absentmindedly. "She kind of reminds me of Shirk," she points out.

"How so?"

"Well," Disaster begins. "They're both big and scary-looking, but absolute sweethearts underneath."

Moe smirks and nods. "They're both quiet unless they like you," he tags on. 

"Both just needed someone to help them and show them love."

Before Moe can continue there's a boof from the door. They both look over and see Daisy sitting patiently. Moe snubs the cigarette out on the sole of his shoe before opening the door to let her out. The pitty makes her way over to Disaster, nudges her, and paces back to the door, looking over her shoulder expectantly. "Think she wants you to follow her, dear."

"Uh," she blinks, and stands, Bella huffing indignantly before flopping into the grass. Disaster follows the dog inside, Moe steps behind her. She's surprised when Daisy leads her to the guest room, and she hesitates just outside the door, hoping to God that Shirk hasn't taken a turn for the worst. She enters, only to see him blinking dazedly up at the ceiling. Daisy is already back in her spot at his feet. "Shirk," Disaster cries, rushing forward. 

His eyes are pink. It suits him, she decides. "Wh…where are we?" He blinks, eyebrows knitting together as his mind struggles sluggishly. He goes to sit up, only for Daisy to move to his side and lay her head across his shoulders, effectively pinning him. "What?" He curls an arm around the dog. 

"You're at my house," Moe pipes up from his spot in the doorway. Shirk's pupils contract into pinpricks and his eyes snap to where the voice is before he relaxes at the familiar face. 

"You had me scared to  _ death _ , Shirk Raya!" Disaster scolds, stomping forward and kissing Shirk. "That's from Ace, by the way, not from me," she tags to the end of the kiss, sitting down in the chair and taking his hand in hers. "Why do you always have to put yourself in danger like that?"

He scowls. 

" _ What? _ "

His face flushes a brilliant shade of crimson and he looks away, mumbling something under his breath. 

"I didn't hear that, mind speaking up?" She leans back in the chair and levels him with a glare which proves ineffective as he refuses to meet her eyes. 

"Because I… Iloveyoualright." The red covering his face deepens and he frowns at the wall. 

"There are better ways of showing that than killing yourself, you know," she chides gently, only for him to scoff. 

"Yeah, well."

"So why didn't you tell me?"

He finally looks at her, eyes narrowing as her curious expression. "Tell you what?"

"That, you know–" she gestures to her head in the shape of horns– "you're a demon."

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but his face shutters over when he does as his walls slam down, and he turns his head away again. "Don't wanna talk about it."

"Well, we're going to, because this is a pretty big fucking thing to hide from your significant others–"

"I  _ don't _ want to talk about it!" He shouts, only to inhale sharply as he jostles something. Daisy whines and headbuts him softly. Disaster frowns at him, and opens her mouth but he cuts her off. "No. We're not talking."

"Shirk…" Disaster warns, crossing her arms and leaning forward. 

Shirk turns to her once again and bares his teeth. "No, don't take that tone. You shouldn't have known in the first place. There's nothing to talk about."

"What's so bad about it, huh?" She knows her anger is a misplaced form of fear, irrational at best, but Disaster can feel it simmering. "Why's it so horrible that you  _ lie _ to the ones you love? Why do you always hide and refuse to  _ talk _ ? Do you not fucking love us? Is that it?"

Hurt is openly written across his face before it's replaced by fury. His eyes narrow and he growls, "Fine. Fine, if that's what you think, fine." He struggles to sit up, smacking Disaster's hands away as she tries to stop him. The covers fall away to reveal his chest and stomach are bound tightly with pristine white bandages, criss-crossing across his torso. He turns so his feet hit the floor and stands, snagging the sheet as he does do. 

"Fuck off," he tells her, voice weary, wavering, and so very betrayed. He wraps the sheet around his shoulders and stumbles from the room. Disaster gets up to follow only to be blocked by Daisy. The Pit Bull gives her a stare that screams  _ give him space _ . 

"Daisy, move," Disaster tells the dog, who fucking  _ shakes her head _ and refuses to budge. Trapped in the room, Disaster screams and collapses back into the chair.

It takes her a while to realize that the dog moved, and she cautiously leaves the room, lest she get stopped again. She doesn't, and Disaster heads towards the kitchen, only to see the back door open. Walking towards it she steps out into the backyard. Looking around, she finds Shirk perched on the wooden fence a couple of feet away, Daisy keeping lookout behind him. She meets the dog's eyes, who glances at Shirk before standing. 

Disaster approaches, watching in fascination as Shirk's tail begins to lash under the sheet as she nears. She takes a spot next to him, leaning on her crossed arms on the fence and looking out into the vast expanse of woods. She hadn't noticed his tail had been there earlier, in her anger. Speaking of, "I'm sorry for what I said. I was upset and scared."

Shirk doesn't look at her. His lip curls, and Disaster imagines that if he had fur that his l hackles would be raised. "Oh no," he spits sarcastically. "Don't. It's fine. You're only speaking the truth. It's not like demons—vile, disgusting,  _ evil _ creatures, right?—are capable of love. Everyone knows that, and it's not the first time I've heard it."

Disaster blinks before turning to him, face the picture of concern. "I-What? Shirk, I never said any of that!"

"Peh, but you're thinking it, now that you know the truth."

Disaster leans towards him and puts a hand on his arm. "Shirk, I have  _ never _ thought you incapable of love. Do… do  _ you _ believe that?" He stills completely, eyes wide, and that's all the answer she needs. Her face crumples and she pulls him into a hug, which is awkward because he's still not moving. "Oh, Shirk," she whispers, pressing her face into his back. "Oh honey, no. No, no. You're full of so much love, trust me."

"For a long time," his voice is thick, and Disaster pulls away to listen, coming back around to his side. He doesn't look at her, eyes never leaving the trees. "I thought myself incapable of love. After… after  _ Arin _ , after the shit he said and did, he… I really believed I was a monster, y'know? Only able to feel hate and anger—I was so angry back then, at him, and the world, but mostly at me and  _ what _ I was. Growing up I was always taught that demons were evil, terrible creatures who only want to damn sinners.  _ He _ was a devout Christian, ironically.

"After hearing something your entire life, when it's _true_, in a way, it just fucks you over. Makes it hard to… to do anything else than what you were labeled as. _Demon_, _Evil,_ _Criminal_, I never _asked_ to be born as a… never asked to be born at all, really." He pulls the sheet further around himself, tail curling apprehensively, but Disaster knows he isn't done, so she lets him collect his thoughts. "I…" he trails off for a moment, face pinched. "I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

He shifts, glances at her and licks his lips. Hesitates. "Afraid you three will learn of how much of a monster I am, an  _ actual _ monster, and leave. Or that I'll hurt one of you. Or that you'll be so frightened of me you all decide you're better off without me. I don't–I can't go through that again. I–I wouldn't be able to keep going, I would rather  _ kill  _ myself than–than…" His breath catches and Shirk violently scrubs at his eyes before scowling, tail twitching. 

"Oh, Shirk," Disaster frowns again. "You're not a monster."

"I'm  _ literally _ a demon–"

"Listen to me, please." Shirk glances at her and she smiles. "Thank you. Now, you aren't a monster, you aren't evil or any more dangerous than Ace or I. Vinny and I know that you're a demon, and do you see either of us running? No. You have literally  _ never _ hurt any of us—minusVinnybutthatwasanaccidentandndoesn'tcount—and probably never could. You're too much of a sap. And that 'Incapable of love' shit? It's bullshit. You are probably one of the most loving people I know. Yeah, you don't say or show it conventionally, but we can  _ feel _ it, with every look you give any of us.

"If I felt you didn't love me I'd've dumped you ages ago. No matter what anyone has ever told you, or called you, or done to you, you're  _ you _ . Not what they see or think or expect. You're the person living and breathing. And yeah, we're criminals, we're not  _ good _ people, but we, and especially you, are not evil. Unless you eat babies for breakfast and use puppies as target practice, there's no way you can be evil."

He snorts in disbelief. "I beg to differ. Killed all those dogs, didn't I? They were just following their owner's orders, they didn't need to die… a second time."

"Shirk Raya, you look at me." He does so, thankfully, and Disaster takes his face in her hands, smiling when he leans into the touch. "Would a monster feel bad about that? Would they be worried about ruining a relationship or saving a stupid, dumb fish their datemate impulsively bought?"

"N-no?"

"Right. And would an evil person enjoy this?" She leans up and kisses him, and his eyes slide closed. He doesn't answer but he hums against her mouth and that's enough. She pulls away. "We good?"

"Mmm, no. But better."

"That's all I can ask for. Come on, lets get inside." Shirk pivots on the fence and places his feet onto the grass. He goes to stand up only to sink to the ground with a groan. "Shirk, you okay?"

"No," he mutters through grit teeth, arms wrapped around his middle. He presses a hand to the bandages which have gone red, only for his hand to come away with blood. Seems he used up whatever meager amount of strength he had built up through the night. 

"How did you even make it out here?"

"Sheer anger," he huffs out a laugh, before Disaster bends down and scoops him up, bridal-style. He flushes as presses his face into her neck as she carries him back into the house, mumbling, "didn't know you were so strong."

"Oh yeah," she agrees, grinning. "Could carry you all day." She's huffing and puffing though, lying through her teeth as she staggers down the hall and to the guest bedroom. She deposits him onto the bed before putting a hand out. "Stay, I'm getting Moe."

"Couldn't go anywhere even if I  _ wanted  _ to," he bitches, eyes shutting. 

Disaster finds Moe suspiciously and knowingly sitting on the couch, standing and passing her before she even says anything. There's then a whole lot of yelling as Moe scolds Shirk and Shirk argues back, before Moe reappears with the dirty bandages. "He's all yours, Dee."

"Thank you."

Once back into the guest room, Shirk's on his side, eyes closed. Disaster goes to sit in the chair but he cracks open one eye—green now— and shuffles backwards, patting the bed. "Lay with me."

"You're still hurt," she points out. 

Shirk fixes her with an absolute pitiful look, wrecked and full of pain, sadness, and exhaustion. He looks vaguely on the edge of tears. "Please?" he pleads, and Disaster relents, climbing into the bed next to him. She carefully gathers him in her arms and he shifts so he can tuck his head under her chin, wrapping his own arms around her like a lifeline. "I love you," he rumbles into her chest. 

"I love you too, you sap." She runs her hand through his hair, and feels him relax muscle by muscle before his breathing evens out and his limbs grow heavy on top of her. Shutting her own eyes, his breathing lulls her to sleep. 


End file.
